Team Possible meets the Legions
by Masau
Summary: When Kim and Ron learn that Drakken and Dementor have been hired by the Illuminati’s Grandmaster, they’ll have to be trained unlike anything they’ve ever heard of to save more than the world from the secret society’s new army.
1. New Mission

Ron Stoppable was one of the happiest guys in Middleton High. He was strolling down D-hall towards his next class after stopping off at his girlfriend's locker. Now most people would think of this as a normal good day, but for them, they've never seen his girlfriend. His girlfriend, teen superhero Kim Possible, was the absolute definition of drop-dead gorgeous. Long red hair cascaded down her back and sometimes covered her emerald green eyes to give her the look of a mystery woman from one of those 1950's Private Eye movies. And she picked Ron over every other guy at school.

Now, the only reason I won't describe in detail all of what Ron thinks about his partner and girlfriend is that he'd never shut up long enough for me to tell you my story. It starts like a few stories do: with a guy who just happens to be dating his best friend. Oh, Kim and Ron have known each other since Kindergarten. And of course, that's as soon as Ron started to have a crush on Kim. I mean, what guy wouldn't immediately do a jaw-drop and bug-eye at the most beautiful thing you've seen jumping in and saving you from three school bullies? Ah, forgive me; I tend to get a bit lost in talking about Kim. Back to Ron.

It was Ron and Kim's senior year and only two months away from the end of school. The two of them had been dating ever since that crazy and wonderful prom a few months ago. Their biggest worry about dating, that it would ruin their friendship and possibly their effectiveness as Team Possible, was relieved less than a week after the dance when Duff Killigan joined forces with the Senior's and attempted to break into a classified think tank in Russia. Kim and Ron handled them so easily one would have assumed that the trio was just a group of ordinary thugs rather than world-class super-villains.

Ron was so engrossed in his memories of the past few months that he completely missed the sound of the bell signaling that classes were starting. Thus you can understand his confusion when the object of his daydreaming ran up to him and yanked him off his feet into their next classroom.

"Possible, Stoppable." Came a deep staccato voice from the front of the classroom. "You're late. Again. One more time and you'll both have detention."

"Yes, Mr. Barkin," Kim and Ron said meekly. Ron mouthed a quick "thanks" in response to her quizzical look, obviously wondering what he was doing about to walk right past his English class. The pair quickly found the last two open seats, which by now were across the room from each other, and settled in for Mr. Barkin's military-styled attempt at teaching.

The bell for lunch rang and as all the students practically ran out of the classroom, Kim walked up beside Ron and slipped her arm through his.

"What was up with you earlier? You almost walked right by the classroom."

Ron blushed pink. "Sorry, KP. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

"You. Me. About how I got so lucky at prom," Ron continued listing things despite Kim's growing blush. " About after prom…"

"Ron! I still can't believe you told Felix about that."

"What?" Ron mock whined. "It was the best hour of my life. And its not like I meant for the whole cheerleading squad to hear. I was just a little… over excited."

"Ron, you practically announced over the PA that we made out for an hour after you took me home." Kim retorted, glaring at her boyfriend.

"Heh, yeah, I guess I did say it kinda loud…" Ron stammered. "But as I recall, you kinda liked my apology."

Kim blushed yet again as they entered the cafeteria. "Yeah, well, who knew your mouth could be so convincing?"

"Kim! Ron! Over here!"

The pair turned towards the voice to find Monique and Felix waiting at their usual table. Monique was a young African-American girl with impeccable fashion sense and was the kind of friend you could tell anything to and not worry about anyone else finding out. Felix was a year younger than the rest of them. Despite the fact that he was wheelchair bound, he had a great sense of humor, and every now and then helped out Team Possible on a mission.

"So what's up on the Team Possible front?" Felix asked, friendly smirk permanently attached to his face. "Getting much action lately?"

"Felix, if you make one more double sided remark, I swear I'm gonna smack you."

Kim and Ron both groaned as they caught onto their friends' innuendo.

"For your information," Kim replied hotly, "we've been having more action in the last week than you will in the next year!"

"Aha! She admits it!" Felix crowed. "Now where did I hide that recorder…?"

"But seriously, guys, you haven't been called for anything doomsday recently. What's up?" Monique asked, cutting off whatever snap Kim had for the local wisecrack.

"Nothing, lately. We know that Drakken and Shego broke out of prison last month, but they haven't done anything since. Wade can't even get a fix on a new secret lair. The only person doing much of anything right now is Falsetto Jones, and he's just a really good thief."

You don't suppose the deadly duo have had enough?" Felix broke in suspiciously.

"Shego, give up?" Ron choked. "Did I hear you right? The she-devil with the acid hands quit? Yeah, not in this lifetime."

"Yeah," Kim agreed slowly. "But then, what's up?"

"GOOOOOOOOOO, MAD DOGS!"

Ron sprang forward into his Mad Dog antics to finish out the cheerleading routine Kim had come up with last week. He still couldn't believe how much better he'd gotten acrobatically since he took Kim up on her offer to coach him a bit outside of practice.

Kim jumped down from her perch at the top of the front pyramid. "Nice work, ladies. Bonnie, if you keep landing that last jump, I think we've got a good shot at the regionals." Bonnie blanched at Kim's unexpected praise. "Now, I just want to hit a few more …"

BEEP BEEP BEEP-BEEP.

"… On second thought, that's it for the day. Great job everybody." Kim didn't even wait for a response before running over to her bag to fish out her Kimmunicator. "What's up, Wade?"

The face of the third member of Team Possible appeared on the screen just as Ron walked over, pulling off his Mad Dog mask. "Well, I got a hit," the twelve year old super genius said. "But it wasn't one the site. Some guy popped up on my home computer not five minutes ago with something huge."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ron said, eyes going wide. "Someone managed to hack into _your_ home computer?"

"Oh yeah. And this guy makes me look sloppy. I've never seen someone this good. Anyway, he said his name was Brigadier General Braddock and he had a mission of the utmost importance for Kim Possible. He said he couldn't go into too many details until he meets you, but according to the video surveillance, a military research facility in New Mexico was hit by, get this, Drakken's AND Dementor's henchmen."

"So how badly did they beat each other up for the prize?"

"That's the weird thing, Kim. Not only were they working together, led by Shego, I might add, but there was another group of people with them. Way too good to be your standard henchmen. The way they move… they look like military. They didn't even need Shego; it looks like the henchmen were just there grab whatever needed grabbing. Now, the _really_ bad news: about a dozen U.S. soldiers were killed in the attack."

"Drakken and Shego killing people?" Ron asked in astonishment.

"Well, if you think about it, I'm kinda surprised its taken this long. I mean, how can you expect to conquer the world without killing _anybody_? Anyway, it's left the base in chaos, and someone wants you there yesterday."

"Got it, Wade. Got a ride for us?"

"There should be a new prototype Harrier parked outside the school now."

"A Harrier!"

AN – OK, this isn't exactly my first attempt at writing, but it is my first posted fanfic, so don't crucify me just yet. Criticism is always welcome, as is just something to say you've read it.

This isn't my main WIP, but for the moment it has my attention, so I should have the next chapter up in a week or so. Till next I write,

BlackDragon


	2. A Job Offer

**AN** – Ok, this chapter does contain a few slight religious references, but they're almost completely historical rather than spiritual. Religious history will play a part in the history of the Fighting Legions, so be prepared for that. Oh, a side note, my screen name, and Masau's name in the story is pronounced MUH-say-you.

. +\

After squashing together on top of one another in the Harrier's second seat, Kim and Ron were hurtling towards New Mexico at nearly Mach 5. Kim reached up and toggled on the microphone built into her helmet.

"So why did Wade call this a prototype Harrier?" She practically screamed at the pilot over the roar of the jet engines.

The pilot did a half turn in his seat to spare her a curious glance before answering. "Because this isn't the model the military has. It's an upgraded version provided just for this mission by a Young Lord Masau. Has a longer hover time, and increased speed. Right now we're going at Mach 5, but I've heard she'll go twice that."

"Mach 10? I heard the fastest military grade plane could only pull a 6."

She could just hear the smirk in the pilot's voice as he answered. "Exactly."

Kim shot a confused glance at Ron, sitting somewhere underneath her. He shrugged and shifted in his seat before blushing scarlet.

_What's with him? Wait, why is there a bump…?_

"RON!"

. +\

"I said I was sorry, KP! And it's not like you can blame me. Look who was sitting in my lap!"

Kim sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ok, Ok, but _not_ on a mission. Pull it together!" She turned to the pilot who had just jumped to the ground beside them. "Thanks for the lift. Who do we need to see?"

The pilot pulled his helmet and flight jacket off to reveal a rather tall Asian man in his mid-twenties with no visible rank insignia. "The command center is over to the south, but I think I can snag you an escort." He cast a quick glance around and his eyes lighted on an officer. "Major! Spare a minute, would you?"

The officer being hailed turned and nodded quickly. "Is this Kim Possible?" At a nod from the pilot, he turned to Kim and Ron. "Major Kane at your service, ma'am. Please follow me to the command center quickly. General Braddock is waiting for us."

As the teens followed the somewhat disheveled man across the compound, Kim was busy trying to take in the results of the attack. Enough smoke was rising from a large building to the north to cast a shadow on half the base. Here and there you could still here cries for Medics and see corpsmen carrying people in stretchers to a small building with a red cross on it about a hundred yards away. After looking around quickly, she realized that she and Ron had come through where the front gate used to be. At the moment, it resembled a junkyard. Feeling a bit ill, she turned to Ron.

"Shego did this?"

The major heard her and turned his head, never breaking stride. "If you're referring to the woman dressed in black and green, she did surprisingly little of this. A few times she blew a soldier away from her with that acid power of hers, but none of them died. It was the bogies, the unidentified soldiers, that did most of this."

As he spoke, Kim noticed that part of his uniform was singed and he was favoring his left arm. Briefly Kim wondered if it had been Shego or an explosion.

"Here we are. The General is just inside. He can give you the details."

Kim and Ron were led to a conference room with a missing fluorescent light. At the head of the circular table sat two men who could not have looked more different. The man Kim assumed must be General Braddock looked to be in his early sixties and was the model of a military officer. His grey hair was cut short enough that the scalp was visible, his face looked clean-shaven despite the recent attack, and his dress uniform sporting a star on each shoulder was nearly spotless.

To his right was a young man in his mid twenties. Though his face did not show a single sign of stubble, he could not have looked less military. His hair, nearly three feet long and braided tightly, was almost white, tinted with just a hint of what Kim could have sworn was blue. His face was marred just below his left eye by a tattoo that resembled a claw scratch. A silver earring hung from the top of his left ear to complete the image of a head banger. Yet despite his unruly looking face, his clothes were rich. As he stood to greet the newcomers, Kim could see that his shirt resembled something she had seen fencers wear at a renaissance fair a few years ago; it had very loose, long sleeves that closed firmly at the wrists. The only difference was that it had the tight collar associated with the top of a Kung Fu gi. His pants were made of the same pitch-black material, with the bottoms tucked into strange looking combat style boots.

But the strangest thing was that he wore a long cape that came perhaps a half-inch from the floor, clasped at the shoulders and draped back so that it hindered him as little as possible. After getting over the initial shock of Masau's out of place face, the first thing Kim noticed when he stood to greet them was that he was tall. Every bit of six and a half feet, his frame was filled out to make him look like a wrestler very capable of taking out Shego if the two should ever meet.

"Ahh, this must be the famous Team Possible," The young man said in a strong voice a bit lighter than his size would suggest. He seemed in much fairer spirits than perhaps he should be, considering the attack. "We have been expecting you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Young Lord Masau BlackDragon of the Fighting Legions. This is my associate…"

"Brigadier General Edward Braddock, U.S. Army." The general stepped forward. "I'll thank you to let me make my own introduction from now on, my lord."

"Of course, General." He said with a small grin. "My apologies."

The elder man turned his glare away from the tall lord and looked at Kim. "Ms. Possible, I contacted your controller, Mr. Wade Load, because we have encountered a crises that has us scared enough to call in two favors for help. You and Mr. Stoppable were called on the recommendation of Lord Masau here. He said he'd seen you in action enough to know he wanted you two."

"I see," Kim said hesitantly, not really sure if she saw or not. "And the second favor you had to call was…?"

"You. The first was asking the Legions for help. With what they are, and what they do, I don't imagine you've ever heard of them. And as a senior member of the ruling council, I suppose I had better let Masau tell you about them."

"Well," He started, "why don't we all have a seat. It's a rather long story." He sat down without preamble and put his feet up on the table. He took a pipe from an unseen pocket, filled it with tobacco from a pouch, tamped it, and lit it. Ignoring the glare he had just earned from the General, he took a puff before starting. "The Fighting Legions have been around for almost as long as humanity itself. We were started just over five thousand years ago by my ancestor, Zachariah, to function as a sort of global police force. The Legions are run like a monarchy, with each firstborn male inheriting from his father. But, unlike monarchies, the Legions have three ruling families instead of one: the BlackDragon's, the Volsung's, and the Ikkitousen."

"What do you mean by ruling families?" Kim was trying very hard to keep an understanding on a situation that was becoming very complicated.

"Well, maybe that wasn't the best description. The whole island we're located on is run like a cross between a military base and a large city. The population is about four million people, and all of them are either Legionnaires, our term for our soldiers; their families; or retired Legionnaires. The ruling families act like a commander-in-chief's council, only it's positions are inherited instead of elected."

"There are four million of you on an island?" Ron asked. "That's a lot of cops."

"Well, originally we started somewhere in Turkey. We had a highly restricted town that slowly grew as we got new recruits. You see, all new recruits must be family of an existing Legionnaire, or else he must be personally approved by a member of the three families. But in 34 A.D., after the Christ was crucified, my ancestors decided it was time for a change of location. So we moved to an island in the South Pacific called Borlea, several hundred miles east of New Zealand. It's roughly the size of Vermont. Any way, where I'm going with all this is simply to establish that we've been around for a while, and while the countries don't always want us there, and try to throw us out sometimes, we act as enforcers of human decency. For example, in all civilized countries, murder is illegal and highly frowned upon. Therefore, while we won't write people tickets for people speeding, we will interfere with murderers, rapists, serial killers, and the like, as often as we can.

"But, more importantly, we have several people like you. People who excel in finding and stopping events or people that could potentially harm a great number of people. Like Dr. Drakken, your archenemy. He is constantly trying to take over the world, and that would have serious repercussions that I doubt he even realizes. You understand the threat he is against the common person, and you stop him because of it."

"Yeah… that's what I do. What's your point?"

"Simple. We have recently come up with a program for people like you. Have you ever heard of Spiderman? Well, that whole story is true, but with different names. It took us a while, but we finally found the man behind the mask and made him an offer. Simply do what he was doing, have a flexible job that would let him leave at any time for a call, and we would pay him a handsome salary. I think by the time he finally retired, he had about fifteen million dollars in the bank that he'd saved. The only thing we asked of him was to stay in New York and think of it as his protectorate, and give us a monthly report of what he'd been doing. So really, this was good for everyone. The hero didn't have to struggle just to keep his apartment, we got a major city under a fairly watchful eye, and New York got a full time super hero."

"But what's that got to do with me?"

Masau smirked and leaned forward. "Let me put it this way: how much money do you make?"

Kim blanched. What was this? "Well, none at the moment. I was about to talk to a friend of mine about getting a job at Club Banana to start saving for college. Why?"

"How would you like to make as much money as your parents? Both of you."

Ron looked at Masau eagerly. "My parents or KP's?"

"Both."

"Hold on a second," Kim interrupted, a frown on her face. "You want to pay us? To what, work for you? What's the catch? And what does all this have to do with the war zone outside?"

Masau's smirk faded to be replaced by a blank face with a touch of sadness. "Well, it doesn't really have much to do with what's going on outside, or what was stolen, which the General will tell you about in a moment. Mostly I just wanted to add Team Possible to the Legions. Yes, I want to pay you. You both have a full time job already, why shouldn't you get paid for it? I mean, wouldn't it be easier if you had your own plane for missions instead of having to hope you had a favor due to you wherever the next villain had his hideout? That would be one of the benefits you get, being world class."

"And the catch?"

"Only what I mentioned earlier. We want a monthly report so that we know what you're doing to earn your pay. Now, like I said, I've seen you in action before, and I know you know who to go after and how to go after them, so I'm not too worried about that."

"You've seen me in action? Don't you mean you've hacked security tapes of villains lairs and watched me?"

"Heh, now what good would that do me? You almost never leave a lair standing. No, after you became a big name, I followed you on a couple of your missions and watched you. A couple times you walked maybe two feet from me."

"Well, you certainly know how to give my ego a boost. How much?"

"Later. First let's get back to the matter at hand. General, if you would, explain what was taken, and I'll explain how we're going to get it back."

. +\

**AN** – till next I write,

BlackDragon


	3. Mission Specs

**AN –** Thanks to all my reviewers so far. I've got a few personal responses at the bottom, but for now, thanks to raven vixen, gargoylesama, Captein Amelia, and darkbusterracncher. Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing.

"Right." General Braddock said, getting up from his chair. He started pacing like a tiger in a circus cage. "This facility is something like the Area 51 of newly created weapons. Area 51 is full of things we've found and are trying to understand. This place, Manhattan Central, is full of the crazy things we've thought up ourselves."

"Manhattan Central?" Kim broke in. "You mean this is where the atomic bomb was developed?"

"More or less. The buildings used for that project are now obsolete and only used for storage. We also designed the Black Bird back in the 70's, and then held onto it for a while before announcing to the Pentagon brass it was ready. Our new pet project is something one of our brainstormers got from his son. Have you ever heard of the anime show 'Gundum Wing'? Or Mech Warrior?"

Seeing nods all around, he continued. "Well, he got the idea of coming up with our own version of a mobile suit. The prototype had a few glitches in it, but nothing that couldn't be solved in a couple months. The biggest problem we had was when the pilot thought about something like sneezing the guns would go…"

"Ahem." A subtle cough from Masau reminded Braddock to return his attention to the young heroes.

"Excuse me. Being a scientist for years has me sometimes getting distracted when I talk about a project. The system was designed to be more than a one-person tank. We wanted a suit that could neurally interface with the pilot's brain to the point that the pilot could make his suit tap dance. Several things were done to the suits to make them beyond anything used today in modern combat. They were space worthy, for one. We managed to create a new kind of propulsion system that required far less fuel to reach orbit. It would act like a magnetic train using the air as it running track, effectively pushing itself a little bit at a time off of each molecule of air. Once it was in space the suit would have to resort to normal rockets, but it would have nearly its entire fuel payload by the time it got there."

"I suppose we don't have the time to explain all of the other advances we made to it right now, so I'll just cut to the meat of it. This suit has heavy-duty machine guns, long range and short range missiles, a cutting laser that could be turned into a weapon, and a long distance semi-automatic rifle that's rather hard to aim. We had three prototypes built, and all three of them were stolen, along with the original schematics. The three pilots who did the only active testing were with their suits during the attack and died when they were forcibly removed from their helmets."

"They died because they lost their helmets?" Ron asked in a confused voice. "Why's that?"

"The neural interface. The pilot's mind is so connected to the suits computer that removing the helmet without properly shutting down the system has the effect of completely shutting down half the brain."

"That sounds like what happened with the emersion caps, remember, Ron?"

The general looked sternly at the two teens. "I shouldn't have to tell you what someone could do with enough of these suits. Imagine an army whose units could pack more firepower than a tank battalion, fly faster than an F-16, have more effective range than a sniper, and be as agile as a gymnast. Make an army of mobile suits, and you could rule the world."

At this Masau cut in. "Fortunately for us, the materials for building an army of suits is limited and expensive, so most of our enemies can't afford it. Hell, America can barely afford it. Unfortunately for us, the man in charge of the raid here has the money and power to do whatever he bloody well wants to."

"Who's that?" Kim asked. "If America can barely afford it, who could?"

"A man by the name of Norman Duval. He is the International Grandmaster of the Illuminati."

"The Illuminati? Isn't that the secret organization that supposedly controls the rulers of the world?"

"That's the rumor. But ask yourselves why someone who already ruled the world would have to do something this explosive to get these suits? They could simply arrange for a transfer so that an Illuminatist is in charge of the installation. Thankfully, the Illuminati does not control vary many governments at all. What it does control, however, is the business world. They have complete control over sixty percent of the major businesses in the world, with heavy influences in another fifteen. Of course, they don't control Dragon Research," Masau finished with a shark-like grin.

"But isn't that one of the largest international corporations there is? Why wouldn't they control it?"

"Because its ours. How do you think the Legions have managed to fund a world wide policing venture, not to mention funding for people like you. And did you expect that five thousand years of getting people out of tight spots would leave us unrewarded? We've gotten so large the Illuminati can't kill us. Hurt us a little, maybe, but not finish us off."

"But how did Drakken and Professor Dementor get mixed up in this? I mean, it sounds like this guy can get the top minds in the world."

"Well, Dementor actually makes sense. He is one of the leading scientific authorities when it comes to the human brain. Duval would have gotten the professor who invented the moodulators and the mind control chips, but Dragon Research had just added him to the payroll and he turned down the job. Drakken is the one we don't really understand. We know that he does have the intelligence to be a genius, but for whatever reason, he never fully exerted himself when it came to take over the world schemes. The only thing we can assume is that Duval wanted him for his history of working with large scale weapons."

"And Shego…?"

"As far as we can tell, she's just an added benefit. Duval already has experts to train his units, and you saw as you came in what they're capable of. Our main concern right now is this: how do we get the two of you trained for this mission before the suits are fully tested and ready for production?"

"What do mean trained?" Kim said rather loudly. "I thought you wanted us because we were good enough. For that matter, what do you even need us for? You're the one with an island full of people like me."

Masau looked unperturbed as he shook the ashes from his pipe. "Yes, I have an island full of good people, but this mission requires a very small team, and the majority of our troops are used to something of a larger scale. Now, the Royal families could handle it just fine, and they're almost all on leave right now, but we don't know where Duval is keeping the suits yet. By the time we expect our spies to report anything, I'll be the only one not on assignment. Which is why I'll be going with you."

"Well, thanks for the offer, Lord Masau, but we work better alone."

"Yes, as I said, I've seen you both in action. Or rather, I've seen you in action with Ron as the bumbling distraction. No offense, mate."

Ron was just glaring at the lord muttering something that sounded like "None taken, _lord._"

"However, you cannot afford any mistakes with this man. He is like a shark: as soon as he thinks you have a weakness, he's on it like ticks on a hound."

"Then why did you want us?" Kim asked.

"Because I think you could be very, very good. Here is what I propose: you and your families come with me to New Borlea for the weekend. There is an annual feast tomorrow at the High Castle. There I will go over with your parents the offer I just made you. Take a day or so to decide what you plan to do. Oh, Mr. Load is also invited with his parents. The offer extends to him, as well."

"You could get Wade to come? We could actually see him in person? Who should make him the offer?"

"Oh, I don't think any of us need to. I'm almost certain that he's been hacked into our security system for most of the meeting. Isn't the right, Mr. Load?" He finished with a dramatic wave to the security camera Kim hadn't even noticed.

BEEP BEEP BEEP-BEEP.

Kim dug her Kimmunicator out of her pocket. "I take it he was right?" she asked the techno genius.

"Yep. Though I'd really like to know how he knew I'd be there."

"Quite simple, Mr. Load, if you think about it. I know how you think. You're a computer nerd, which means you like to know everything you can about everything you can, and these are your friends, which means you want to make sure they're as safe as you can keep them."

"So Wade, what do you think?"

Wade seemed to really be mulling the offer over in his head. It took him nearly a minute before he said, "I think I like it. We can go to this feast and spring the idea on our parents. We'll take on this mission and see how they operate, and once its over we can decide if we want to stay or not. And I gotta admit, sponsorship like that sounds good. It would mean I could make new gadgets for you out of better things than lipstick and hairdryers."

"But I love the hairdryer grappling hook," Kim protested.

"I know, and its kind of become your trademark gadget, but do you have any idea how nervous I was when I first gave you that thing?"

"Ok, Ok, we'll go to the feast and take the mission before we decide to sign up."

"Excellent, Ms. Possible. Unfortunately we'll have to wait for our spies to contact us before we can move, but I have an excellent idea on how to pass the time."

**gargoylesama - **yeah, I know. I've seen some people get crazy when their story includes themselves. However, this is a bit different. Masau is actually the main character in a story series my ex-girlfriend and I have been working on for the past three or four years, and the final character of that story (which is the Masau you're seeing here) is almost nothing like me.

Ok, fair point on Shego's power's (did they actually clarify that in the series?), fortunately it doesn't have much bearing on the story and should be easy to fix later on. What's LDD?

**darkbusterrancher – **gimme a break, I'm not used to uploading to I still have to play around and see what it'll take, and what it'll kill in the upload. And if you think that the first chapter had a slightly different writing style than 2 and 3, that's because 2 and 3 are the whole reason I started this fic, but I couldn't jump into it. I had to come up with some filler. And soon we'll find out if I'm any good at fight scenes ;)

Till next I write, and keep reviewing,

BlackDragon


	4. Arrival at New Borlea

"I still can't believe that my Kimmie-cub managed to get us invited to New Borlea." Kim's father seemed giddy as a toddler in a candy shop about this trip. Curious, considering that they were going somewhere the rest of the family hadn't even heard of before yesterday.

Kim and Ron had been returned home by the same Harrier and pilot that had taken them to Manhattan Central. Once home, they decided it would be easiest to convince parents all around if they both ganged up on them all at once. After they had announced that they had been invited to the feast at the island base to further discuss their new mission, it had been harder keep Dr. Possible from dragging them to the airport that night than to convince the Stoppables to join them. Surprisingly, Jim and Tim had an almost identical reaction to their father's and absolutely refused to be left behind, even promising on their own to not get into trouble.

"Dad, I still don't get why you're so eager about this," Kim said, stretching in the seat across the aisle from her parents. The Possibles and Stoppables had boarded a private jet bound for New Borlea ten hours ago. Wade and his family weren't with them because it turned out that Wade currently lived nowhere near Middleton and Masau had sent a separate jet for him. The inside of the jet Kim was in held twenty-four people comfortably. Just before takeoff, Ron, who was currently snoring lightly beside Kim, had been busy pointing out just how comfortable it actually was.

"Kimmie-cub, do you have any idea how big of a mystery Dragon Research is to scientists? For years now, they've managed to start production on new technologies as soon as research becomes reality."

"So, what's wrong with that?"

"Well, nothings _wrong_ with it, exactly. It's just close to impossible. They have working schematics for assembly lines within a day of something being patented. It's like they've already come up with it and just haven't told anyone. No one outside the company knows how they do it. And, as you know, the corporate headquarters for Dragon Research is on New Borlea, itself, though very few people know that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, officially, they don't have a single location for their headquarters. They say that each continent has it's own, but I recently discovered that that was just something they said to keep the island out of public knowledge."

"How'd you manage to find that out?"

Dr. Possible's voice held a pleasant smirk as he replied, "You aren't the only person in this family with hacker-geniuses for friends."

Kim tried to hide a grin as her eyes rolled automatically at her father's tone. Stifling a yawn, she turned and leaned over Ron to look out the window. Her jaw dropped. "Is that it?"

A flight attendant passed by in time to hear her question. "Yes, ma'am. That is the island of New Borlea. Could you help me wake everyone up? We will be arriving at Dawn's Landing shortly."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Ron groaned in protest. He didn't want to wake up yet. His dream had been too nice: something about rescuing a beautiful redhead from an army of possessed nacos while armed with nothing more than silverware…

But the soft lips on his were too persistent. He opened his eyes to find himself looking into two emerald treasures.

"Rise and shine, handsome. We're here."

"You know, KP, I could really get used to waking up like this."

Kim laughed and nudged him towards the window. "Take a look outside."

Ron complied and had a similar reaction to what Kim had a few moments ago. "Is that…?" Down below was a large kidney shaped island. Instead of a coastline, the waves crashed against cliffs some thirty feet above the water. There were only two hills on the island, one on the east side, and one in the center of the cove-shaped indent that rose sharply to look more like a lookout point than a hill. Small skyscrapers jutted up from the south side of the main hill, not quite hiding the sprawling castle that rested at the peak. Towards the north, just peeking above the tops of the buildings were what appeared to be housing developments. Because of the island's slope, not to mention the buildings that made the island resemble New York rather than a military base, the far west side was hidden from view. In the water below the lookout hill, small boats were docked in the cove that sheltered them from the more violent waves.

"Yeah," Kim said, the awe in her voice matching Ron's. "That's it." She turned around to find the flight attendant waking up her brothers. "Excuse me, but how big is the island? Its kind of hard to tell from here, but it looks like maybe… ten miles long?"

The flight attendant smiled in a way that said she'd heard that before. "Actually, from point to point, its about one hundred miles long, and fifty miles wide. We're still a few miles from starting our approach." Her task of waking the passengers complete, she turned and made her way into the cockpit.

_A hundred miles?_ Kim thought to herself. But that would mean… those weren't boats down in the water, they were oil tanker sized cargo ships! How big then must the castle and buildings be? Kim looked out the window again to find that they were almost parallel to the large island, but still several miles south. Confused, she turned to her father, who was buckling his seatbelt.

"What's going on? Isn't that where we're supposed to go?"

Her father laughed. "No, Kimmie-cub, Ms. Heart explained it to us while you and Ron were asleep. There is no direct plane traffic into or out of New Borlea itself. There's a smaller island about twenty miles south that is solely used as an airport and naval yard. We'll land there, get transferred to a helicopter, and be taken over to the High Castle itself. So we should be there in about half an hour."

"You mean all traffic gets onto the island by helicopter?" Ron interrupted. "Must put quite a damper on tourism."

"Well, remember, Ron, this isn't a tourist island. It's a military base. Dawn's Landing is designed as an extra security precaution for visitors. The more important guests are shuttled in by helicopter, and the rest can take a boat and dock at the Silver Cave Port. You wouldn't believe how many of the buildings over there have helipads on top of them."

A voice from the intercom system broke into their conversation. "Attention ladies and gentlemen, we are on approach to Dawn's Landing, where you will be transferred to your helicopter for your flight directly to the High Castle. Please return your seats and tray tables to their full upright and locked positions so that we may begin landing procedures."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

After an uneventful landing, the senior flight attendant, Ms. Heart, met them all at the bottom of the landing ramp. "And now, if you will follow me, I'll take you directly to _Transfer One_. Young Lord BlackDragon has already cleared you all for flight, so there will be no need for a customs check." She turned with an arched eyebrow towards Jim and Tim. "Though he did say to ask you two specifically to not tamper with anything in the helicopter."

"If she thinks that'll stop 'em, she's got a lot to learn about twins," Ron whispered to Kim, who nodded sadly.

Ron's fears proved fruitless, much to everyone's pleasant surprise, as they completed the trip without any systems' failure. Though the flight was uneventful, it did provide quite a few awe-inspiring sights, such as the massive cave worn into the cliff that appeared to be the islands main port and the approach to the High Castle.

The High Castle was indeed larger than what Kim first thought. It was roughly in the shape of a square, with a massive courtyard just inside the main gate. It had surprisingly few turrets, seeming to have been built for practicality rather than beauty. Its front walls looked wide enough to hold several rooms across it, and each had a tower at the corner. The wings leading from the towers towards the two larger towers in the rear of the castle looked just as wide. The rear towers were slightly higher than the halls joining them to the keep, the highest point of the castle. Turrets had been placed on the two rear towers only, as the builders had obviously only considered an attack from the sea. The helipad at which they were to land on was located on the southern turreted tower, which was easily large enough to hold ten helipads.

Standing on the roof, apparently waiting for them to land, were four people. Two of them stood at the door that could only be the stairwell into the castle and had high-powered rifles slung over their backs. Masau stood just beyond the helipad, looking identical to when Kim and Ron last saw him, the smile on his face making him look even younger. Beside him was a woman in her early twenties with long black hair and a flowing white gown that flapped in the wind from the helicopter blades. Looking at their direct contrast in hair and clothing color made Kim think of salt and pepper. After the guests disembarked with the help of their hosts, the helicopter began shutting down while Masau began making introductions.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the island of New Borlea. Here we are in the same time zone as New Zealand, so it is nearly three o'clock in the afternoon. The feast does not begin until six this evening, so you should have plenty of time to refresh yourselves beforehand. You will be shown to your quarters momentarily, but first I would like to introduce this lovely young lady…" Here the Young Lord was interrupted by said lovely young lady, who squealed and ran up to the pilot that had just dropped to the ground.

"… Zoe Ikkitousen." Masau finished, shaking his head resignedly. "She and Young Lord T.C. were married a few days ago and leave for their official honeymoon tomorrow."

"You know," Ron said to Kim, "I would have thought from the way they're dressed that she was with Masau."

Despite his low voice, Masau heard his comment and replied, "That's understandable. She is with me, in a way. She's my daughter."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

**AN – **well, there's New Borlea. Next chapter will be mostly about the feast, and a few old acquaintances should be there. And if anyone thinks that Masau and his world are over-shadowing the KP world, that will shortly return to an appropriate ½ and ½; besides, I gotta give Masau a complete background before I put him into a storyline, right?

**darkbusterrancher – **I know what you mean. I nearly cried in that episode where Kim had drivers ed. I mean, I know she's supposed to be the golden girl, but what teen that obviously wants to drive would say stuff like that. And who the hell goes through that much thinking and naming about how to turn a car around in a tunnel? Anyway, if you don't like how kid-oriented the show itself is, but like the basic idea behind it, you should like this. Ron gets training, Team Possible will get actual weapons, and things go boom with people inside them.


End file.
